


Misconceptions

by Mawgon



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Elves, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawgon/pseuds/Mawgon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt on the Hobbit Kink Meme: Tauriel has bad news for her King. The Dwarves think he is a bad guy. Well, now, Thranduil expected that they would accuse him of trying to steal their gold. But ... they said he would do ... what?!<br/>Thranduil needs a drink. Or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misconceptions

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/5346.html?thread=11856610#t11856610

„There are no female Dwarves in the group, Sire.”

Thranduil stared at Captain Tauriel. “None? Thirteen Dwarves and they all just so happen to be male?”

“Perhaps they lied, Sire.”

“Why would they lie about that?” Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “Maybe their customs changed since I last visited Erebor, but I distinctly remember the hassle it caused when I told them I would share rooms with you, Captain.”

“Yes Sire. I do not think their customs have changed, Sire.” She placed her hands on her back, a habit, he had noticed, that had replaced her fidgeting with her hair when she was nervous. 

“Is there something you are not telling me, Captain? Something that might explain why, even though they were scandalized at the notion of a male Elf sharing rooms with a female Elf, they are now willing to drop those – rather silly – notions of propriety they used to revere so? Even now that it involves Dwarves?”

“They told me nothing, Sire.”

Ah. Tauriel would never lie to him. However, twisting the words so that what she said was still technically true, yet not what he wanted to know ... that was something she occasionally did. “Did you overhear something, then?”

“You will not like this, Sire.”

“Thank you for trying to spare my feelings, Captain, but keep in mind that I already questioned their leader. I think I already heard every single insult they have come up with.”

“Yes, Sire. Thing is, they ... well ... they talked among themselves in that language of theirs, but I could make out one word of Westron ...” Her voice faltered. 

“Please continue, Captain. Which word?”

“’Rape’, Sire.”

So that was why she was so nervous? “Of course, this is what this is all about, is it not? Thorin wants to reclaim Erebor and fears I might claim part of the treasure as my own ... of course he would describe it in such terms.”

“Sire, I am afraid the ... er, meaning of ‘rape’, as it were, has changed somewhat since you learnt Westron. With all due respect, Sire, you do not visit the towns of Men that often ...”

“Of that I am well aware, Captain, and you need not fear that I will let my pride get in the way of learning. Now, what does the word mean nowadays?” 

“You ... you remember when I killed that Man, and it caused a diplomatic crisis?”

Of course he remembered. That vile creature hardly even deserved to be called a Man, it was more like an orc, and had been trying to ... “I do remember, Captain. Why they were not glad to be rid of that creature, I will never understand.”

“Yes, Sire. Well, what he was trying to do to young Hwandriel? That ... that is what the word ‘rape’ is used for nowadays.”

Thranduil stared at her. He could feel all blood drain from his face. His hands clenched around the armrests of his throne. 

Captain Tauriel strode over to the cabinet where he kept his wine and poured a goblet full, which she then pushed into the hand he had finally managed to unclench. “I did say you would not like it, Sire”, she said apologetically. 

Thranduil sipped. Dorwinion. He felt an overwhelming gratitude to the Captain of his guard – she had really earned the position by never losing her calm. “Why?”, he finally managed to ask. 

“The political situation in the countries ruled by Men has been unstable, Sire. Perhaps this has led to more crime, and thus to the need to have a word for this specific crime.”

“We are Elves.” He would need a lot more wine. Perhaps he would be able to forget about this if he drank enough. 

“Yes Sire. The Dwarves from Erebor have been exiled, I can only assume this has led to a loss of knowledge. And since knowledge on Elves is not as vital as some other things ...” Tauriel shrugged helplessly.

“They may not know that about Elves, but ... do I seem to be the kind of person who would do such a thing? If I were a Man, would you think me capable of ...?”

“No Sire! Of course not! Those Dwarves don’t know you.”

“Yet it seems that what they know of me is bad enough to give such an impression ...” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. The wine had helped against the nausea, but he would probably be confined to his bed for some hours. “Have the furniture removed from the rooms for visiting royalty and let them stay there, so that they may divide as it seems most proper to them. Lock the doors that go out to the hallway, but not the doors connecting the rooms to each other and the bathroom.” 

“Yes, Sire.”

“Wait. Do you think this wise, Captain? The guest rooms are not designed for holding prisoners.”

“The locks are good and sturdy, Sire. The bathroom door can be barred from the inside, but I do not think they will lock themselves in there.”

“Good. Have them all brought to be guest rooms. Except Thorin.” Thorin was held in a single cell, anyway. “Make haste.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And if you would, send someone to tell Galion I need more wine.”


End file.
